


Sooner or Later

by edibleflowers



Series: Putting It Together [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:53:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha finds out about Tony and Thor and decides to investigate further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sooner or Later

**Author's Note:**

> More in the post-Avengers-movie setting of "Bang!". More pairings to come. Apotheke is a real place in Chinatown, with some pretty enticing-sounding drinks. As always, immense thanks to lemniskate67.

Living in Stark Tower had sounded a rather odd arrangement at first -- something of a boys' club, with Natasha Romanoff and Pepper Potts as the token females. Still, as Natasha had begun to settle in, she found she rather liked it. For one thing, it was a vast improvement on the simple apartment in which she'd been living for years (SHIELD had set her up with it at some point, and she'd never felt a particular need to change the arrangement until now). It made sense, too, for all of them to be in one place -- as much as possible, anyway -- if they needed to respond quickly to a crisis. Even with Steve off exploring America for an unspecified amount of time and Clint down in DC on a security detail, Natasha still felt that the place had begun to possess an inhabited quality, a home-ness despite being perched a hundred floors above New York City. They each had their own floor-slash-apartment suite, with individual kitchens and any amenity a human could possibly require... and if they didn't have it, whatever they wanted could be ordered and delivered within half an hour. In addition, Tony had designed a communal kitchen and dining area for meals, and this was where she'd found Thor putting together his dinner -- and invited herself to join him.

The god had apparently been sent back to Earth by his father (the idea that she was hanging out with the son of Odin still threw Natasha for a bit of a loop) in order to be closer to the humans and act as guardian of Midgard if need arose, though he would be summoned back for his brother's trial. Chatting with him as she made a salad to go with the steaks -- Thor could make pretty much anything over a fire, but side dishes and vegetables didn't enter into his cooking skills -- she learned that he'd spoken to Jane Foster, the doctor whom he'd met in his previous adventures on Earth, only to discover that she was still angry about being placed out of the way during the Chitauri crisis.

"And it is not as if I don't understand her frustration," Thor commented, as Natasha finished the salad and set it aside, then hitched herself up on the counter with a glass of merlot to listen to him. "I share it. I would have given much to see her then, but there was no time."

"She probably just needs some time to think about it," Natasha said. "It hasn't been that long, really. A month? She'll understand that we were just trying to keep her safe and out of Loki's reach."

Thor's expression darkened, but only for a moment, and then he nodded, smiling over at Natasha. "I am sure of it. I will give her the space she needs. And in the meantime, I have a beautiful home in which to stay while I am here on Earth, and my friends to spend time with." His smile widened, then, his eyes sparkling. "Why, my first evening here, Tony graciously allowed me to sleep in his bed."

Of all the things Natasha had expected Thor to say, that was one of the least likely. It was only through luck and reflexes that she kept hold of her wine glass, her mouth opening for a long moment before she made it close again. "You -- you and Tony," she prompted, her other hand groping for the wine bottle.

Thor reached past her to grasp the bottle, correctly interpreting the motion of her hand; he poured more wine for her, his grin lazy. "Certainly," he said. "Although I will admit that such was not my intent when I first arrived, nor did I realize that he had rooms set aside for me already. But it was, shall we say, a fortunate error. He is quite the enthusiastic lover."

Natasha took a long sip of the wine, letting it trickle down her throat and seep into her, before she raised her eyes to look at Thor again. He'd returned to the grill at the center of the stove, using tongs to flip the three steaks (two for him, one for her), but his eyes still danced as he watched her. "I must say, I don't think I have ever seen you at such a loss for words."

"Just enjoying the mental image," she replied, and now she was smiling, because oh, she could picture it all too clearly. Thor, golden and naked, his broad chest over Tony's leaner form, the arc reactor lighting the space between them-- She licked her lips and chuckled. Surely it was wrong to think such things about one's teammates. "So," she said. "You and Tony. It was good?"

Thor's grin was all the answer she needed, and she found herself leaning forward a little. "You've _got_ to tell me all about it."

"I would be delighted to--" Thor began, and then paused, his gaze tracking over to the door that led to the elevators. Belatedly, Natasha's eyes followed his: Tony stood in the doorway, looking bemused and a little lost. A frisson of cold guilt shot through her; she wondered how long he'd been there.

"Tony!" Thor said in greeting, just a few seconds too slow. "Please, come and join us. I will put another steak on--"

"No, no," Tony said. He wore an odd smile. "Go on, you all have fun. I'll be downstairs." 

As he turned and disappeared -- Natasha heard the soft tone of the elevator a moment later -- Thor exhaled and looked over at her again. "Do you suppose he is ashamed? He did not seem so before."

Biting her lip, Natasha set the wine down and pushed herself off the counter. "I'll go talk to him," she said. "Don't wait dinner on me, all right?" Patting Thor's arm, she went past him and out to the elevators, summoning the second one to take her to her rooms.

It had taken her only a moment to form a plan of action once she'd seen Tony's odd expression. Thor clearly felt absolutely no shame in the experience -- and why should he, it was clear that warriors of Asgard had no need to prove themselves to anyone. Tony, on the other hand, might not feel the same way. In her time spent shadowing him, Natasha had learned that Tony tended to keep his feelings well hidden behind a wall of brash humor, and even more so behind the Iron Man armor. Only very gradually had he had opened up, to her and to the others, and even then not much. She didn't like that distance at all at the moment.

Now, she picked out a few items, selecting just the right outfit, and changed quickly into them. Slinky thigh-high stockings; high heels to show off her legs; a simple but well-tailored midnight blue sheath dress that fit her like a glove, strapless, clinging to every curve. Makeup and perfume to complete the image, her hair left loose to bounce in soft curls around her face, and finally a simple wrap to cover her shoulders and give an illusion of modesty. Stepping into the heels and finding the matching purse -- stocked with her ID and some cash, plus a weapon just in case -- she headed back to the elevator and down to Tony's lab.

As expected, the elevator doors opened to loud music blasting from said lab, but Natasha was used to that by now. Ignoring it, she proceeded to the glass door separating the workshop from the lifts and typed in the passcode; when the door slid aside, she stepped in enough to lean an arm on the frame of surrounding glass, calling, "JARVIS, mute!" to get Tony's attention.

It worked; he swiveled around, a protest about the music dying on his lips. She allowed herself the slightest smirk as his eyes traveled down her body and up again. After a moment, he leaned back in the chair, setting aside the component he'd been toying with; at the same time, the schematics displayed in the air before him flickered and disappeared. "Agent Romanoff," Tony said, "to what do I owe the inestimable pleasure?"

Funny, she thought, how he could be charming and polite even in a vintage t-shirt (with just the slightest pressure of a circle at the center to show the presence of the arc reactor), worn jeans and beat-up sneakers. "I've decided you're taking me out," she said. "You need to get up, go get a clean shirt on at least. Tie's optional."

"Dare I ask what the occasion is?" Tony asked. She could see the concern still there in his eyes -- he'd been wondering what she and Thor discussed, certainly, and this was something of an unusual gesture for her -- and she did her best to smile naturally at him.

"Well, for one thing, I need a drink. You need to get out of this lab." She straightened, spreading her arms a little to show off just a bit. "And I look _fantastic_ in this dress. There's three good reasons right there. Unless you have something to do that could beat that?"

Tony's indecision lasted only a moment. "Not a damn thing," he said at last, standing and stepping slowly toward her. "I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes?"

"Good." Natasha turned to head back to the elevator, knowing his eyes were still on her and enjoying it. Truth was, she'd grudgingly come to admire Stark, even to like him; she'd never had the occasion or need to admit it before, though. Still smiling, she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. "I'll have the limo waiting," she said as the doors closed.

She'd already summoned the limo, so she wasn't surprised to see it waiting outside the front doors of Stark Tower when she arrived in the lobby. Tony was as good as his word; she'd been standing by the doors to wait for him for exactly five and a half minutes when the elevator doors opened again; the transformation had been quick and complete: a casual dark grey suit, a white linen shirt -- no tie, but a glint of red and gold at the cuffs betrayed his whimsical Iron Man helmet cufflinks -- and undoubtedly Italian leather shoes. As he approached, she noted that he'd taken a moment to groom himself, trimmed the goatee just a little; she couldn't help but smile her approval.

Tony held out his arm in a gentlemanly fashion as he came up to her. "Do I pass?" he asked.

"More than." She slipped her arm into his, letting him walk them out to the waiting limo. The driver (not Happy, but another trusted employee) was already holding the door open for them, and Natasha paused to murmur the address to him; then she slipped into the limo first, letting her wrap slide around her elbows as Tony sat down next to her.

Once the vehicle was in motion, Tony turned to her, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee. "So, do I get to know where we're going, or is this a surprise?"

"A surprise," Natasha replied at once, finding the smile rising easily. "A good one, though. Do you trust me?"

She watched a complex expression cross his face; even so, he answered with barely a moment's hesitation. "Of course."

"We've come a long way, I suppose," she said, leaning back a little against the seat. "I know you didn't care for me at first."

"I don't know if I'd say that--" Tony started, but Natasha shook her head.

"No, you didn't, and that was fair. When you found out who I was, it wasn't easy." She raised an eyebrow, and Tony chuckled.

"Well, no, that's an understatement. I'm still amazed when I think about it, I was totally fooled."

"You weren't looking for it, either," she pointed out gently. "But the thing is, we're equals now. At least, I hope we are. On the same team, working together for the same cause. I'd like it if we could be friends."

Tony's eyebrows furrowed a moment. "Wait, I'm confused. Did you think we weren't?"

"Not exactly, no. Just that we haven't spent a lot of time together talking, getting to know one another. As friends do." It felt awkward to Natasha, saying it like that, but then again, friendship wasn't something she was used to, either. Still, Tony nodded and sat back.

"Point. Although--" His eyebrow rose again, curiosity apparent in him now. "I have to wonder why now, why tonight."

Natasha gave him a remote smile, then turned to look out the window. "We're almost there."

* * *

Though she'd heard of the place, she hadn't seen it herself, so Natasha was only a little taken aback by the plain entrance to Apotheke. As Tony stepped out of the car, she could see that he looked equally unimpressed. The wide rectangular sign over the door was in Chinese (a translation underneath read "Gold Flower Restaurant"), and from outside the place looked to be like any other lowbrow restaurant or bar, with plain square doors and a heavy block-glass window on one side. They could hear music from within, though, a pulse of something that slid under Natasha's skin almost at once, and the colored light sifting through the window was anything but ordinary.

"Been here before?" Tony asked, an eyebrow up yet again.

"No," Natasha admitted, giving her usual quick once-around to make sure no obvious threats presented themselves, "but I'd heard about it, and I thought it might be interesting. Apparently it's something of a play on underground prohibition-type bars. They have days where you have to have a secret password to get in, things like that." As they moved closer to the bar, the limo drove off; the street was too narrow for parking, and Natasha knew the driver would be back in a minute if they needed him.

Inside the plain doors, everything was different: the dimly-lit bar was richly decorated in a style hinting to ancient apothecaries; shelves behind the bar purported to carry old-time (and undoubtedly worthless) remedies, while flashes of fire from the lab-coat-wearing bartenders suggested creative mixing at work. Natasha had made a reservation for them: once inside, they were swiftly guided to a private little setting, a couch tucked into a corner, set off by a potted palm to keep them hidden from casual view. 

Tony seemed to be adapting to the idea of the evening fairly well, at least if the way he flirted with the hostess who led them to their seating was any indication; still, Natasha caught him with a gentle hand on his forearm before he ordered. "Let me?" she asked. "The drinks are unusual here."

"All right," he said, with a bemused smile, and Natasha turned to the hostess.

"A Jasmine Sour for me," she said, "and a Deal Closer for the gentleman."

Tony's eyebrow went up again at that (it was getting a lot of exercise tonight), but then he leaned an arm over the back of the couch, his smile widening. "That sounds rather promising."

Natasha merely smiled back at him, equally enigmatic; once the hostess had gone, leaving them in their quiet little island -- the music could still be heard clearly, but from where they sat the volume was dimmed enough to be heard without shouting. "Well," she said, allowing a brief chuckle, "I should admit that my intent in bringing you here might not have been entirely on the level."

"Is that so?" Tony looked skeptical now, but still interested. 

Nodding, Natasha slid a little closer to him on the couch. "For one thing, I wanted to make sure you were all right after you heard Thor and I talking about you in the kitchen," she said. Tony's face slid down just a little, and she laughed, then, resting a delicate hand on his knee. "But I was also intrigued. It seemed -- well. Exciting. Interesting."

That had his attention; she liked the intrigued look in his eyes. "I thought to myself," she went on, "what if it really could be that simple? The way Thor, ah, approached you, so casual. This sort of thing isn't usually -- not for me."

"But it could be," Tony prompted. His hand slipped from the back of the couch; she felt his fingers trailing over her shoulder, a surprisingly gentle caress. She might have turned to kiss him then, but for the discreet cough of a waiter offering their drinks. Natasha moved back just a little, taking hers, though she waited to watch Tony taste his first.

"Oh, that's good," he commented, though his eyes had lifted to meet hers. "The citrus, you get the vanilla, and there's something else, too, what is that?"

"Aphrodisiacs," Natasha replied, with an impish grin she couldn't restrain. While Tony's mouth opened and then closed again, she took a long sip of her own drink, her eyes still caught by his.

She'd barely swallowed the mouthful, sweetness and sour mingled on her tongue, when Tony moved in close, so swift and easy a move that it very nearly startled her. "Mind if I have a taste?" he asked. He'd set down his own glass, so Natasha began to hand him hers with a nod; instead, though, his fingers curled at her chin, lifting her face to his with the slightest pressure, and then his mouth was on hers. Warm and smooth, his lips, bracketed by the goatee that brushed at her skin, and Natasha closed her eyes and let herself sigh into the kiss.

"Very nice," Tony Stark murmured from up close, and Natasha smiled, pleased.

* * *

It wasn't the aphrodisiacs that had her wanting to kiss him more, heedless of their location, wanting to climb on his lap and ignore anyone who might be passing by: Natasha knew now what it was about Tony Stark that fascinated so many people to the point of distraction. It was those dark eyes, wide and knowing and deep, somehow managing to cast innocent and jaded looks at the same time. She waited only long enough for them to finish their drinks, Tony wordlessly paying the bill; and then they were heading back to the door, a mutual, silent accord having risen between them.

Watching the limo carefully navigate the awkward turn onto the street, Natasha reached between them for Tony's hand, clasping it in hers. She was utterly aware of him now, of every inhalation, every beat of his pulse. It seemed an impossibly long minute before the limo was finally in front of them; Tony didn't wait for the driver now, just opened the door, keeping Natasha's hand in his to help her in, and the moment they were inside, he pressed the button to raise the privacy screen between the front and back of the vehicle.

"Just drive around," he said, when the driver asked via the intercom where to go. That was as much as Natasha could stand; she dropped her purse, let the wrap slide from her shoulders to the seat, and climbed over Tony's lap, thighs straddling his, mouth finding his for a hot, hungry kiss. Her dress hitched up her thighs in the process; Tony greedily slid his hands there to follow it, feeling the lean agile muscle taut under his palms.

"Great minds think alike," she murmured, fingers slipping under the lapels of his jacket to push it off. Tony waited only as long as it took to slide his arms out, and then he skimmed a hand along her back, seeking the cleverly hidden zipper at the middle of her back, tugging it down while she nimbly undid the buttons on his shirt. His belt was next, once she'd tugged his shirt open -- the clear blue circle of the arc reactor visible now through a cutout of his undershirt -- and she smiled at the image as she slid her hand into his trousers, finding the line of his erection already strong and stiff in his boxerbriefs.

"This has been kind of a weird week for me," Tony said, apropos of nothing. His hands were still moving on her back, nudging the hem of her dress up higher, but she pulled back anyway, watching him with concerned eyes.

"Is this all right?" she asked. Her hand stayed where it was, unmoving.

Inhaling hard, Tony brought a hand around to cover hers, pressing it to him. "It's _so_ all right," he said, with a weak laugh, and surged up to kiss her again. "Please, don't stop on my account."

"If you're sure," Natasha murmured, biting his lip, and then she tugged her hand out from his pants, cupping his wrist and guiding his hand between her legs. As she'd expected, Tony's eyes went perceptibly darker when he discovered that she was wearing nothing at all beneath the dress; she simply smiled at him, at least for a moment. Then his fingers began to explore -- she was already hot, turned on from the teasing kisses and anticipation, and when one and then two fingers stroked into her, slick and hot, she tipped her head back and moaned.

"What do you want, Natasha," Tony muttered against her throat, his other hand doing something -- she brought her head forward and saw that he was working his trousers and boxers down, as best he could one-handed while the other continued to tease in her. She dragged in a hot breath and pulled her dress up and over her head, inverting it carelessly and dropping it to the seat, and then, while he was still taking in the sight of her in absolutely nothing but the stockings and stiletto heels, she reached down to help him get his pants down. He abandoned the effort once they were past his knees, desperate to touch her; his hand skimmed up over her belly to curve around one full breast.

Natasha sucked in a sharp breath at that, the sound one of sheer pleasure. "I think you can guess what I want, Tony," she said in almost the same tone, her voice gone low and husky with want, her hips rolling on him, riding his hand. "Gonna make me wait?"

"Not a second longer than I have to, I can't stand it, you're fucking gorgeous--" Tony's mouth was going again, but it didn't matter, he was slipping his fingers back, urging her forward at the same time, and Natasha felt down between her legs to steady his cock, to push down on him in one smooth thrust.

They both gasped in the same moment, mouths close together; then she pushed up to take him in again, rocked full of sensation that seemed to shimmer to her fingertips. Tony bent his mouth to her breasts, eagerly licking, brushing kisses to her nipples, the rough hair of his goatee making her shiver wherever it slid on her smooth skin, while his hands clutched at her ass to hold her to him. It worked beautifully; she braced her hands on the seat behind him to give her leverage to rock on him, hard slides to take him deep, rocking her hips against his groin for that final shock of pleasure against her clit before pulling back to do it again.

She could have done this forever, she thought, watching his eyes -- now black as midnight -- avidly drinking in the sight of her, of them together; his hands finding her breasts again, then slipping down between them to discover her clitoris, taut in the dark curls at her mound. Thor had called Tony enthusiastic, and that he was, but there was more than that here: a connection, she hoped, a warmth in the way his arc reactor lit the close space between them, limned her breasts in soft blue. When his slick fingers stroked her in earnest, she pushed down hard and gave into the looming climax he drew out of her, letting it wash over her in hectic waves, feeling with an entirely separate pleasure the way he thrust up hard into her in a flurry of thrusts and came moments later.

"We're almost back," Tony said a little while later. Natasha had let herself sink down on him, her arms draped loosely around his shoulders, his cock soft inside her.

She sighed a little and lifted up, letting him slip free. "Guess we should get dressed," she said, her smile wry. Tony's hair stood up all over; he looked pleasantly wrecked, and she suspected she wasn't much better.

He heaved a breath, chuckling quietly. "If we have to." He reached for her dress, carefully turning it right-side-out before offering it to her; with a wry smile, she took it, kneeling on the seat to carefully tug it on while he pulled his pants back up and belted them, rebuttoned his shirt. She found her wrap while he pressed the intercom button to tell the driver to return to the tower; then he tipped his head back against the seat to watch her as she finished tidying herself up as much as she could. Her hair was a mess, she knew, and she wasn't sure of the state of her makeup either; but a quick shower would take care of both.

"Are we good?" he asked quietly. 

Natasha couldn't help a surprised look; she slid a little closer to him on the seat, covering his hand with hers. "I hope so," she said. "I mean, that was sort of the point, right? To get a bit closer?"

"OK." He smiled, just a soft quirk at the corners of his mouth. Natasha tangled their fingers, leaned in for a soft kiss. "OK," he said again.

"I don't know if this will be a thing that happens all the time," she said, feeling entirely comfortable in letting her head rest on his shoulder. "But if we're adults about it, if we keep honest and talk about it, then maybe it could work."

She felt Tony sit up a little more next to her and turned her head to watch him. "You mean, like. A regular thing?"

"Sure." She smiled briefly. "I mean, that's how Clint and I have been for a long time. And Thor was so casual about it, I was wondering if he might be interested, too."

Tony's mouth was open again; as the limo made a final turn and descended into the parking garage below Stark Tower, he began to smile slowly. "Huh."


End file.
